


Forgotten Specifics

by Demons_are_the_new_angels



Category: Dishonored (Video Games)
Genre: Death, Flashbacks, Low Chaos Corvo Attano, Low Chaos Emily Kaldwin, M/M, Possession, Possessive outsider, Vague af corvo/outsider, dead things
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-06
Updated: 2017-12-06
Packaged: 2019-02-11 09:32:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,882
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12932448
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Demons_are_the_new_angels/pseuds/Demons_are_the_new_angels
Summary: Tensions rise between Emily and Corvo after Delilah's reign. Corvo needs someone to blame.





	Forgotten Specifics

**Author's Note:**

> I didn't edit this lol good luck trying to figure out what the fuck is going on!

The empire was saved, and Emily was back on the throne; Corvo was no longer stone, and all seemed well in the Isles. All was well.

The Royal Protector no longer had his mark, and it was an adjustment, but he soon grew accustomed to his lack of power. It's not like The Outsider ever visited him anymore anyways, and his ties with the arcane had weakened over the long years.

Empress Emily Kaldwin reigned true. She no longer snuck off to avoid her duties, and treated all her people with a grace and fairness not seen since the rule of the last Kaldwin Empress. Wyman and her even stopped sneaking around, and a royal engagement was soon public knowledge.

Such events raised Emily’s spirits, and lead her to ask Corvo the question she had pranced around for years.

“So… when am I going to hear news of a certain Royal Protector’s engagement?” When younger, Emily repulsed at the idea of Corvo being in any sort of relationship. Most maids and guards claimed it was a childish possessiveness towards the Royal Protector, with the young girl wanting Corvo all to herself. But the most daring tower’s staff, the ones dull enough to assume no one listened, would speak in whispers about how maybe… just maybe, that whore empress Jessamine gave herself to her Protector, and Emily’s hate for the concept stemmed from a fear that her mother would be replaced.

Emily no longer held such reservations, and wanted only for her poor father to be content.

Corvo would laugh at his daughter when she brought such a subject up, and continue to dance around the battlefield the two shared as gracefully as before. “Trying to throw me off my game Em? Low blow!”

“Ha!” She would yell across, and the sparring would continue, not another word uttered.  
-  
The fighting between the two rarely got bloody until then. In the old days, before Delilah's short reign, Corvo would stop his assault before anything became a real threat. Now both were at risk of taking it too far.

Emily’s lack of mercy could be explained by months of just that, as she regained her empire, along with a lack of discipline with her sword.

Corvo, however had no reason. He was angry when they sparred, and his blows were one too many. Emily adapted quickly, and while the violence may have put strain on their usually open and caring relationship, she did improve.

There was one fight that went too far on both ends. Corvo maneuvered his sword with the preciseness his reputation was built on, stabbing and slicing into the Empress.

The empress stabbed and sliced back. While she did not have the years of training Corvo had, she made up for it with her youthful vigor, and whatever rage she had pent up from a day's work as empress.

Both were bloody, both burnt with rage in their eyes. But one had to yield, or they would both die, alone in the streets of Dunwall.

An Empress must know when to quit.  
-  
They rarely spoke to each other after that night. Corvo still stood valiantly behind her during all public affairs, but neither of them spoke to each other in private in any form other than quick, cold sentences. It drove them both crazy.  
-  
“Maybe he just feels bad that he couldn't be there for you, and is all upset because his pride was hurt or something? To be completely honest, I haven't the slightest clue darling,” The two lovers hid away from the outside world in the safe room, curled up, Wyman’s hand lazily running through Emily's hair. “Or maybe he's all upset because you have cool powers now and he's all old and wrinkled.”

“Yeah,” Emily breathed, “maybe.”  
-  
The Empress had little time to think on the matter, and as time went on, the two slowly began forgiving each other. Quick sentences became casual ‘How are you’s and the two quickly discovered they couldn't stay mad at each other forever. Life was quick, and they'd been through too much together to let it all end over one or two fights.

The tension hadn't all depleted, and it wouldn't for a time, but they were improving.  
-  
The Month of Nets had long past, and The Month of High Cold was upon them. The political tension in the Isles had risen just enough for those watching to be cautious, and due to such facts, Dunwall Tower was in a silent frenzy. Nobles visited daily under the pretense of ‘doing all they can for the empire,” as they groveled at their empress’ feet.

Such endeavors kept the Empress busy, and stressed. As Wyman was in Morley rounding up his family for the wedding, Emily had no one to lament to but Corvo.

“If they ask me for ‘A cart of Tyvian Red,’ one more time…”

Corvo’s laugh was half hearted as he looked down at the sheets Emily had thrusted towards him moments ago. One of the higher ups in the city watch stabbed a girl, and now he was signing the man's acquittal. Had he been the man he was just two years back, marked and full of righteousness, he might have paid the man a visit. But times were different now. Corvo had no mark, and his emotional range currently ranged from grumpy to joyus; he was getting old, and was surprisingly okay with that.

The acquittal was signed, and he passed the parchment back with a look.

“I know it's not ideal. Hell, it's awful. But has popular among the his people, and if we don't do this we have the entire Watch up our ass.”

“Yes Empress.”

“Don't ‘Yes Empress’ me. I value your opinion father… what do you recommend I do?”

“This is your decision Emily. But since you asked, I recommend you ask him to publicly apologize, and then fire him. Don't worry about the Watch, all they care about are their whiskey and cigars.”

They both shared a chuckle. “So that hasn't changed between our times skulking in the streets.”

“No it has not.”

The silence that consumed the room was all consuming. They had never compared ‘saving empire’ stories.

“When did he mark you?”

Emily choked on her wine. “Oh! I hadn't realized… evidence of Wyman’s activities still showed. Well isn't this embarrassing I will just go and cov-”

“Emily.”

She paused, directing her father's facial expressions. She apparently found what she was looking for, for she grabbed the bottle of wine on her desk, and chugged until it was gone.

“After I escaped the tower,” her breaths were shaky, “The Outsider marked me after I escaped the tower.”

“Kingsparrow blood and feathers,” Corvo stood “that piece of-"

“Father, I'm the one who accepted it. I could've said no. But I had to say yes. To save my empire, to save you.”

“That's what he wants you to think. That's what-" He cut himself off. After a number of deep breaths, he spoke again. “Get some rest Emily, I'll see you in the morning.”

Emily wanted to resist, wanted to ask what Corvo was going to do, but the alcohol was already reaching her blood, and intoxication was setting in fast. So she nodded, and crawled into her bed. Corvo hovered at the door.

“Don't do anything I wouldn't do father,” she slurred from under the blankets.

“I love you Emily.”  
-  
The singing of the bones was excruciating. They hummed with an intensity that had never been seen by the young girl. She groaned, and went over to investigate. As she trudged over to to shrine, and picked up a rune, the images hit her. She didn't know his name, or really what he looked like, but she knew he had to bring him here.  
-  
Corvo was walking blind. He had no heart, no blink, and no knowledge of where a shrine may be; such knowledge heresy in the eyes of the Abbey. But Outsider give him hell if he couldn't find one.  
-  
The young girl was no longer herself. She was a shell. She was a message. He was getting closer.  
-  
He felt farther and farther away with each step. But he had a vague memory of there maybe, maybe being a shrine here a decade ago.  
-  
He walked in the shadows. But she could see him. He could see him. Closer.  
-  
“Hello.” The voice was matter of fact. Corvo kept walking.  
-  
He is closer to me. And as smart as anticipated. As smart as before. Come old friend, come new stranger. Come to our shrine.  
-  
A young girl with black eyes ran ahead of Corvo, into an alleyway. She ducked under loose planks into the side entrance to a broken down apartment building. He followed her in, to find no one  
-  
You are almost to me.  
-  
He pulled his sword out, lifting his left hand before quickly remembering there was nothing to do with it.  
-  
Silly boy. Do not be discouraged. You can wear me soon. You can be mine again.  
-  
The shrine made him sick. It was wrong, dirty. The runes at the altar were covered in sticky blood, dripping silently every couple seconds. The purple and gold cloth was ripped and blood stained, and rats and bloodflies lay dead at his feet with such a density he could do nothing to avoid stepping on the corpses, and nothing to avoid hearing the crunch as he approached. It was then he saw the bodies. Two, stuffed in the corner covered in dead bloodflies. Their blood spilled black on the cement floor in intricate patterns.  
-  
Corvo came to in the void. Surrounding him was the same small room, but even after years, the man knew the air of the place, he knew the soul. Now for the hard part.

The jagged platforms that made up the void were few and far between. Most of the jumps he made only narrowly avoided falling into the unknown, and all of them did terrible things to his knees.

He lost track of how much time he had been… away. It was easy here. It could have been days, or it could've been seconds, there was no saying. As the royal protector contemplated these thought, he reached a platform with no other to jump to. For a couple seconds, he waited. Waiting for the Great Leviathan to show his smug face and mock him for a couple minutes before dropping him back into Dunwall. But he did not approach. And so Corvo Attano did the only thing he knew would get The Outsider’s attention. He jumped.  
-  
No.  
-  
The void roared. Corvo knew not if it was the wind past his ears or the rage of The Outsider but he was deafened by the sound. As he fell past another platform, a cold hand, seemingly from nowhere, grasped his wrist and pulled him up. The Outsider.

“Corvo Attano,” The Outsider’s grin was always unnerving, and this one shone particularly unreadable. “Why have you visited me upon the late hour? Are you here to ask for your mark back? Because you know-"

“That's not why I am here and you know it,” exhaustion began to set into the man's bones as he spoke, “Explain yourself.”

The Outsider seemed to chuckle at such a command. “My dear Corvo…” the god disappeared as Corvo looked on. There was no point in trying to track his movements. It was only the cold breath on the back of the royal protectors neck that gave away his position, a deliberate move. Corvo did not turn.

“I asked you years ago never to visit her again. Don't act like you don't remember,”

He did remember. It was the first time Corvo had pulled himself into The Void, back at The Hounds Pit.

The shunned royal protector had just eliminated some target or another, and upon arrival back to the bar, he immediately had gone to visit Emily, who he quickly discovered was sleeping.

“Callista, you go get some rest, I'll watch over her for a bit,”

She gave him a once over, “Oh Mr. Attano that isn't necessary, I can watch her, it is my job after all,” he laugh was cautious.

“Callista.”

With that she scurried out of the tower. Corvo waited until her footsteps were acceptably far away before he sat beside young Emily. Grabbing a book, he silently read beside her, a protector even now.

When she began to squirm and kick, he set down his book worriedly, and tried to gently shake her awake. When she mumbled about ‘black eyes,’ rage almost overpowered the worry.

“Em. Em wake up”

She woke up gasping. She looked around wildly until her eyes landed on Corvo.

He would hold her shaking body until she fell back asleep, and for even longer after that. It began with sobs about black-eyes. And it ended with sobs about men clad in black, stabbing into her mother’s abdomen.

After he was sure she wouldn’t wake up again, and had quietly removed the rune from under her pillow, Corvo returned to his room. The runes he had, he slept with.  
-  
He swam through tar. His skin boiled and when he screamed it only filled his lungs more with the burning ichor. Corvo was blinded, deafened, and felt nothing but pain, but to give up would to be lost in here forever. To give up would be to lose Emily.

He struggled past secrets, whispering in his ears, maddening him. The royal protector felt bone shards slice into him, and tar seep in the wounds. The longer he remained, the less of him there was to corrupt.

He didn't know when, or how he escaped. He just knew that he keeled on a stone slab, sweat and his panting breaths the only sign he had struggled. The Outsider floated above him.

“Corvo. You made it.”

“Was I not supposed to?” He tried to speak menacingly, but the panting, and the fact that he was on his knees did not help in that regard.

“A few before you have. And a few after you will,” The god paused, “You may even meet one of them, if we are both unfortunate enough,”

“Delilah.” Corvo had no idea how he knew such a name, or even what it meant, but he said it with such conviction he didn't doing that some part of him understood.

“Ah yes, The Void taking its hold. Don't worry, you won't remember her name when you leave,” The Outsider lowered himself slightly, grabbing Corvo’s chin to look up at the god.

Corvo had no energy to resist

“Why have you come to visit me my dear champion?” His eyes held little fondness. As the black eyed deity let go of Corvo’s chin, he did not look back down. Good.

“You visited Emily. Don't.”

The Outsider should have paused. Anyone else would have.

“There will be a time Corvo, where I must visit her. A part of you, a new part, knows this. But I promise you, I will not visit her until that time comes.”

Had Corvo looked been inches from the god’s face, had he looked into his eyes and examined his own reflection, he would have seen black eyes.  
-  
“So long ago did we have that chat. Much has changed, you can no longer visit me at will. You must again slink around in your own city in search of wretched shrines built in my name. Now, dear Corvo, we both know you did not come here for Emily. You've known for months I marked her, and you've know that I remained vigilant on my promise. I brought her here because she needed to be brought here. To save your precious Dunwall.” The Outsider had begun circling the royal protector. Examining him.

“We both know you don't give a shit about Dunwall. So why did you really mark her? Was it so she could defeat her aunt and erase your mistakes? Was it to mock me?” Corvo, still fast as a whip, gripped the god’s wrist as he walked, halting him.

This was his domain. It would be nothing to escape the man's hold. Yet he remained, grinning all the while.

“My champion, always fascinating.”

“I'm not your champion anymore.” He hadn't been since the plague.

“You could be,” suddenly the god stood centimeters from the man's face, “There are always more adventures to be had, dear Corvo.”

“I'm too old for adventures.”  
-  
Corvo would return to Dunwall tower exactly the same, and fundamentally different. The bloody shrine would be destroyed, per Outsider’s request, and the slow walk home, bitter and cold, excited the royal protectors bones in a way it hadn’t in a long time. He walked fast, jumping from rooftop to rooftop for nother reason than personal entertainment, and to prove to himself that he still could.

The young girl, no longer corrupted, would follow him. Corvo, no longer corrupted, would let her.

Eventually, she'd be given a room and a job in the tower. She wouldn't speak of the Outsider until before her execution, a couple decades later.

The next morning Corvo would wake sluggish, and melancholy. As he looked at two unmarked hands, he began the day as he would any other.


End file.
